I feel like I’m inches from having my own tiny bakery. I surprisingly stay busy enough with orders to keep a bake shop open, and for some reason the thought of taking the risk no longer scares the living poo out of me- It actually kind of comforts me.
I feel silly saying this, because I haven’t been religious since an incident about a year after going through conformation, but I feel like somethings telling me to slow down and the peeeerfect opportunity will arise. I feel it will still be soon though. I haven’t been more confident about much else in my life as I am about this premonition.
I can’t recall the last time I’ve fought a fair fight. My fights go as follows: I get walked all over, perhaps kicked a few times; I pick the wrong time to stand up for myself; I’m the bad guy; the “good guy” walks away happy; I get dirty looks from their friends, aunts, uncles and the fucking family dog.